


Logic Still Needs Comfort

by KieraElieson



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Touch-Starved, joking death mention, sensory issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraElieson/pseuds/KieraElieson
Summary: Logan disliked being touched.It had been known for years. They all knew it. Surprise hugs or claps on the shoulder startled him unpleasantly and even made him upset sometimes. Touching his hand to get his attention made him jump and frown. He himself had compared the experience to having a bug or an animal suddenly landing on him.And so Roman and Patton learned not to touch him aside from the occasional celebratory high-five. Which was fine. Everyone was fine, and happy.And then came Virgil. And accepting anxiety as a valuable part of Thomas. Which changed things.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 33
Kudos: 132
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	Logic Still Needs Comfort

Logan disliked being touched. 

It had been known for years. They all knew it. Surprise hugs or claps on the shoulder startled him unpleasantly and even made him upset sometimes. Touching his hand to get his attention made him jump and frown. He himself had compared the experience to having a bug or an animal suddenly landing on him. 

And so Roman and Patton learned not to touch him aside from the occasional celebratory high-five. Which was fine. Everyone was fine, and happy. 

And then came Virgil. And accepting anxiety as a valuable part of Thomas. Which changed things. 

  * •^*^••



“Hey, um… L?” 

Logan turned to see Virgil fidgeting but staring at him with an intent look. “Yes?”

“So, um, well you know I told you how Remus is practically a leech, and there wasn’t any getting away from it, but I’m not saying Patton isn’t great! But just Roman is… Roman, and just, but Patton really is great but I kinda don’t want to get turned into a teddy bear, and you’re all calm, and I’m, well, I’m sort of missing the calm and….” Virgil looked down and huffed out an annoyed sigh. “Oh, this is gonna come out awkward any way I say it. Can I sit next to you? I just wanna play on my phone and maybe stick my legs over your lap or something.”

Logan cocked his head to the side just slightly. “You wish to stick your legs over my lap while sitting next to me? That seems like it would involve terrible posture.”

Virgil gave a little breath of a laugh. “Any way I sit involves bad posture.”

“Actually, occasionally when you sit you replicate what is sometimes called the ‘primal squat’ which is reported to be excellent for your posture.”

Virgil gave him a lopsided grin. “Ok, you got me there. Maybe. But anyway, would you mind? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I’ll head back to my room.”

Logan considered it carefully. It was true that he did not enjoy touch. But this seemed as if it would be relatively calm, and would not require much, if any, reciprocation on his part. “I do not ‘mind’,” he said, utilizing Virgil’s turn of phrase. 

He was currently standing, reading a book he had taken from the bookshelf he was standing in front of, and had not yet decided whether to stay with this book or choose another. He quickly pulled out the other two he’d been considering, and tucked all three books under his arm before seating himself on a couch. 

It was a pleasant place, the memory library. Calm and quiet, with almost a heaviness to the air that Logan found enjoyable in a way. It was also rather dim, however, at least in this area, where the memories were older, and Logan found it necessary to summon a side table with a lamp on it so that he would have suitable light for reading. 

He’d momentarily forgotten about Virgil until the couch cushion dipped beside him. Virgil pulled off his shoes and glanced at Logan. 

“You really don’t mind? I mean, I know it’s kind of invasive to your space. You don’t have to say yes.”

Logan nodded. “I am not opposed.”

Virgil very tentatively put one foot up on Logan’s lap, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Logan felt again that sudden unpleasant ‘something touching me’ feeling, but it passed surprisingly quickly, and by the time Virgil had fully settled himself, laying on his back with his knees up over Logan’s lap and his feet on the other side of Logan, the feeling was gone entirely. 

Logan propped his book against Virgil’s knees and began to read. 

He was a little surprised, when Patton called for dinner, to find that they had been there for close to two hours, and that the unpleasant feeling had never returned. Instead he was feeling warm, and comfortable, more than he had in quite a while. He attributed this to the couch. And perhaps the warmth was a slight raising of Thomas’s core temperature, due to stress at having Anxiety so close to the old memories. Perhaps they ought to have sat down somewhere a little further away. 

Regardless, he was about to comment, as they got up, at how pleasant the experience had been. Except that as soon as they both stood up, he found he was suddenly and extremely unpleasantly cold. This alarmed him, and he left without discussing anything with Virgil, concerned that the warmth and sudden cold was a sign of sickness, perhaps only his own but perhaps a symptom that Thomas was sick as well. 

He went straight to the miniature control center he’d set up in one corner of his room, pulling up all of Thomas’s vital signs as well as a recording of where he’d gone that day. But everything was normal. 

The cold seemed to be fading somewhat, though it was leaving a concerning ache behind. And it seemed to be concentrated on his thighs and forearms, of all places. 

Logan looked through his list of sicknesses, sensible and nonsensical, that he had somehow contracted over his life, and found nothing similar. Still, this must be a sickness of some kind. Most likely a nonsensical one, as he hadn’t noted similar symptoms before. Perhaps he would discover some absurd idiom Thomas had latched onto that was causing him to experience physical repercussions. Something similar to ‘brain freeze’ perhaps. 

A soft knock at his door caught Logan’s attention. 

“Yes?”

“Logan?” Patton’s voice asked. “Are you alright? Virgil told me what happened. He didn’t realize how much you don’t like being touched, and I think he’d like to apologize, but he’s really worried that you’re upset with him.”

“What—“ Logan had left rather abruptly, and without expressing to Virgil that he’d enjoyed their encounter. It was very possible, with Virgil’s anxiety, that he had misinterpreted Logan’s abrupt departure. “Ah. I see.” He waved a hand to open his door. “I am not in the least upset at Virgil. There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, good.” Patton said, concern all over his face. “But you should probably tell Virgil that, and there’s some dinner saved for you yet.”

Logan nodded, the ache in his forearms and thighs rather distracting. “Thank you, Patton.” And then it hit him. If it really were an odd turn of phrase Thomas had attached to, Patton would certainly know it. “Have you happened to notice any interesting phrases recently?”

Patton frowned in confusion, indicating that Logan had changed the subject too rapidly for Patton to keep up. But then he grinned a little. “So today, I saw a baguette in a cage at the zoo!”

And then it was Logan’s turn to be confused for a moment, before he realized. “Ah, I didn’t mean a joke-“

“It was bread in captivity!” Patton smiled brightly, nearly laughing at his own joke. 

“Yes, thank you, Patton,” Logan said, allowing the tiniest bit of an amused smile to show. 

Even that slight encouragement made Patton beam. “Well, I told Roman that I would watch Disney with him tonight, so I’ll have to go, but don’t forget to talk with Virgil before you eat, and don’t forget to eat either!”

“I won’t forget,” Logan promised, a softer smile showing. 

But as soon as Patton left he clapped a hand over his mouth. Why was he so… easily swayed? He prided himself on keeping a straight face, and yet now he’d  _ smiled at Patton’s pun!  _ What was wrong with him?

And now, with Patton leaving the room, it was as if the heat had been sapped. He was again very uncomfortable, aching and cold and he didn’t understand why. Was he perhaps experiencing some strange and extreme form of separation anxiety? It had set in both times as another side had left, though in different ways. But he didn’t feel anxious. 

It was all incredibly strange. 

But it seemed that Virgil was under a rather upsetting misconception. It could wait. He would speak with Virgil first and then look into this strange sickness further. 

Logan crossed the hallway to knock on Virgil’s door. 

The door opened almost immediately, Virgil looking as though he’d been waiting on someone to knock, and that Logan had not been the one he’d been expecting, based on the wide eyes and generally startled appearance. 

“L, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known, I wouldn’t have wanted to make you uncomfortable—“

“Virgil, I assure you, I was perfectly comfortable. I would have expressed discomfort if I needed to.”

Virgil blinked, and the deep black of his eyeshadow faded somewhat. “You aren’t mad?”

“Not at all. I enjoyed the calm company you provided. I left abruptly upon discovering symptoms that indicate possible sickness.”

“Oh.” Virgil was silent a moment, gaze flickering away from Logan as he processed. “Wait, sick? Who’s sick?”

“I may be, though it is odd, and perhaps not a sickness at all.”

“Well, what is it? What’s going on? Are you ok? Is it contagious?”

“I do not know. I am experiencing a strange cold, and aching.”

Virgil’s eyebrows creased in concern. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Logan nodded seriously. “That is why I left, trying to discover what it could be.”

Virgil nodded in an encouraging, ‘go on’ kind of way. 

“I haven’t found anything yet, but Patton informed me of the misunderstanding between us and reminded me to eat dinner. I intend to do more research afterwards.”

Virgil nodded. “I could rubber duck for you, if you want. Maybe I could help a bit.”

Logan stared, trying to remember what the phrase was meant to convey before revealing his confusion. He was certain he had it on a flash card somewhere, but he’d left them in his room. 

Virgil rather obviously quashed an amused smile. “You tell me what happened, and then we see if we can figure it out together. Repeating the details can help you connect them better sometimes.”

“Ah. Yes. That does seem useful. Thank you.”

Virgil gave him a lopsided grin, pulling up his hood and closing his door behind himself. “So when did you first notice the symptoms?”

Logan explained his symptoms and research to Virgil as they went downstairs and sat down at the table. 

“And I still have very little of an idea of why,” Logan admitted. “I believe it possible that it’s another of those idioms that we sometimes experience physically.”

Virgil nodded very slowly. “I actually… might have an idea. I have an experiment I’d like to try, but if I explain it fully it’ll bias you and it probably won’t work.”

“Go ahead,” Logan said, opening the Tupperware container of spaghetti. “What is your experiment?”

Virgil reached one hand across the table. “While you’re eating, give me one hand.”

Logan considered, reaching out to hold Virgil’s hand. “Does this have something to do with checking pulse? You would be able to do that more easily with my wrist than my hand.”

Virgil shook his head. “Just eat, and when you’re done we’ll see how it goes.”

Logan frowned slightly. “Do you believe this has something to do with how recently I’ve eaten? Or that it could be influenced by the focus needed to do something with only one hand?”

Virgil chuckled. “I’ll explain once you’ve eaten.”

Logan was far too curious to wait patiently, and ate quickly, pushing away a not-quite empty container. “What is it?”

“Are you feeling warm again?”

Logan took a moment to assess, and realized that yes. He was feeling warmer. The ache as well was completely gone. “I am. Is it the food?”

Virgil offered a rather sad smile. “Alright, now let go of my hand and tell me what you feel then.”

Logan let go, and almost immediately the cold rushed back. He frowned. “But why? Why do I suddenly seem to have my physical temperature tied to the proximity of you and the other sides?”

His hand ached, and he held Virgil’s again, relieved, but utterly confused when the unpleasant feelings faded. 

“I’ve had something like this,” Virgil said. “But not quite the same as yours, based on what Patton was saying. I think you’re probably touch starved.”

Logan considered this silently. 

“But I don’t like being touched.”

Virgil gave his hand a slight squeeze. “You don’t seem to mind this.”

Logan nodded, very slowly. “You’re right. I… I don’t mind this at all.”

“I think we should talk to the others,” Virgil suggested. 

Logan nodded slowly. “I suppose so.”

  * •^*^••



“You’re what?!” Patton practically wailed, throwing himself at Logan in a hug. 

Immediately Logan felt like he wanted to crawl out his skin. This was  _ miserable.  _ In no way what he wanted. It didn’t feel right at  _ all.  _ It was like a whole hive of insects were buzzing just below his skin. 

He pushed Patton off of him, more roughly than he would have intended. “Get  _ off _ !”

Patton stopped immediately, staring in confusion and hurt. 

Logan couldn’t handle it. He was freezing, and his skin was crawling, and his mind seemed filled with static. It was terrible. He just couldn’t. 

He barely understood the words directed at him from the other sides as he sank out. 

He locked his door and shuddered, hands repeatedly making and releasing fists. He shuddered again, trying to dislodge the crawling feeling. It didn’t leave. 

He’d been right, he  _ didn’t  _ like touch. Not at  _ all.  _

He got into the shower, running the water hot and scrubbing the disgusting feeling away. It helped warm him up as well, which felt way better. He bundled into his bed, pulling the weighted blanket that had been a gift from Virgil over himself. 

A while later, finally calm and comfortable, he conjured a note to stick on the door. 

_ I am not upset, but please leave me alone. _

  * •^*^••



Logan spent the next several days figuratively buried in research. He investigated touch starvation as well as touch aversion, and a host of other possible clues to his situation. 

He also gradually became more uncomfortable, holed up in his room. 

He came to the conclusion that he did, in fact, have a kind of touch starvation, awakened to a roaring hunger by that pleasant afternoon sitting with Virgil. 

But he also  _ certainly  _ had an aversion to being touched in certain ways. And he suspected, looking into it more, that surprise was a large factor, as well as the amount of him that was being touched, and perhaps the way in which he was touched. 

He was basing this largely on his own reactions to Virgil’s method of touching, as compared to Patton’s or Roman’s, since he highly doubted that it was something inherent in them that he was averse to. 

Finally his findings were all put together into one detailed, though as of yet hypothetical, presentation. Armed with this, and a determination not to touch anyone until he’d presented his findings, he opened the door to his room. 

As he’d suspected, there was something attached to his door that made a noise as it was opened, and he was soon nearly mobbed with the other sides. They didn’t touch, or come too near, or say anything, but all came very quickly to stare at him, worry in every gaze. 

He raised his folder. “I have a presentation. Please gather in the living room.”

It didn’t take long. Not at all. 

Logan opened the folder and set it on top of the tv, so that the images could be seen. 

“I believe Virgil was correct in suggesting that I have a degree of touch starvation.” He flipped through a few pages, supporting this statement with both facts and personal experiences. 

He paused. This was the part that was likely to hurt feelings. Even he knew it, and he wasn’t usually adept at understanding feelings. But it was necessary. 

“However, in satisfying this hunger, I will need to be ‘picky’. I have boundaries outlined in this section, and I need to keep them rigidly. This will mean that I will not be open to surprise touch, and likely not to hugs either. I would like to have support from each of you, support in accordance with what I’m capable of handling.”

“Absolutely, Logan,” Patton said. “I’d really like to be able to help you in the right way.”

Both Roman and Virgil nodded very solemnly and enthusiastically. 

Logan smiled, more moved by this expression of support than he’d expected to be. “Thank you, Patton. And thank you two as well. I will be very much in need of your assistance.”

He cleared his throat, more in an attempt to gather himself together than any really obstruction. “I’ve laid out a number of methods of touch that I believe would be helpful to me, and arranged them by likelihood of success, and also divided by which I believe each of you would be more inclined to enjoy yourselves.”

  * •^*^••



Logan was seated on his bed, organizing and updating his flashcards, when there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in.”

“Hey,” Roman said, peeking in rather shyly. “Um, can we try one of those things now? I brought something to do.”

Logan considered, a slight curl of worry in his stomach. “Yes. I believe now would be a good time.”

Roman fully entered the room. “So I can sit behind you, and do my thing, and I won’t bother you while you do yours.”

Logan smiled slightly. “That sounds pleasant.”

Roman grinned, a bit of pride evident in his expression. He sat behind Logan on the bed, facing away from him, and leaned back slightly, so that they were each leaning against the other. 

For about thirty seconds, Logan was uncomfortable, but gradually, warmth spread out through his body, and his mind was able to return its focus to his flashcards, and soon he found he was quite comfortable. 

“Hey, specs, what do you call a little tiny shovel? Like the ones for kids. Or I guess not for kids, or not all the time.”

“That would be called a trowel, though perhaps a more recognizable, less correct term would be a spade.”

“Thanks!” 

Logan could hear the smile in Roman’s voice, and smiled himself. This was genuinely pleasant. 

Even after he had finished with his flashcards, Logan didn’t move. He just soaked in the wonderful warmth, answering whatever questions Roman had, and occasionally listening as Roman gushed about a particular sentence or paragraph he was especially proud of writing. 

  * •^*^••



Logan walked beside Patton, enjoying the false nature of the imagination. He was familiar with much of the flora and fauna, even a decent portion of those entirely invented within Thomas’s mind. And Patton seemed to enjoy Logan’s rambling as much as Logan enjoyed the rambling. 

A hand bumped gently against his, and Logan hesitated a moment, before linking his pinky finger with Patton’s. 

Patton’s smile grew even brighter. “And you were saying the seeds of that tree are special? What kind of special are they?”

Logan smiled proudly, launching into an explanation. Patton swung their hands back and forth gently as they walked, and Logan felt something within him fill up. He felt pleasantly full, as if there was a cup inside him that had been long empty, and was now trickling over the rim, full enough to even spill. 

  * •^*^••



Logan and Virgil laid out on the roof, looking up at the night sky. They were side by side, with Logan’s left leg tangled up with Virgil’s right. 

It was calm. And warm. And peaceful. 

In a reverse of the usual pattern, Virgil was the one telling the myth, this time of people who had lifted up the sky. 

Logan felt himself drifting off, more comfortable than he could remember being in a very long time. He was figuratively floating on soft, warm clouds. Drifting into a summer night. He was safe, and content. Comfortable. 

  * •^*^••



“Patton,” Logan said slowly. 

“Hmm?”

“I would like to attempt a hug.”

Patton turned all his attention to Logan. “You sure?”

Logan nodded. “Yes. Just— slowly. And gently.”

Patton nodded solemnly, reaching his arms out. 

Logan slowly leaned into the embrace, and Patton gently wrapped his arms around him. 

And it wasn’t bad. 

Logan hugged Patton, squeezing lightly before letting go. “Thank you.”

Patton’s eyes were all shimmery, and his smile wobbled. “You’re welcome, Logan!”

  * •^*^••



The door burst open dramatically and Roman ran in, flopping over the arm of the couch and letting out an even more dramatic groan. Then he peeked his eyes open, and moved to just as dramatically flop onto Logan’s lap. 

“I fought dragons.” He announced, his voice a whisper as if he were inches away from death. 

Logan, for once, was hit with a burst of mischievousness, and patted Roman’s face in an intentionally awkward way. “I will be sure to mention it at your funeral. I’m sure you’ve written an extensive ballad, and I’ll force Virgil to sing it in your honor.”

Roman had a sudden grin before resuming his ‘dying of exhaustion and probably wounds’ act. “Make sure you do,” he croaked out. “And have Patton put flowers in my casket.”

“Of course.”

Roman went limp, closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out. 

“Patton!” Logan called. “We’re going to have to put on a funeral.”

“A what?!”

  * •^*^••



Logan leaned against Virgil’s side, his empty cup of coffee set beside him, as the second movie began to wrap up. 

“If they start another movie, you can lay in my lap and go to sleep,” Virgil offered quietly. 

Logan, who despite the coffee was beginning to nod, hummed an affirmative. 

He was woken up a good deal later by a lack of sound, and found that they’d just finished what might have been the third, but could’ve been the fourth or fifth movie of the night. He was laying on a pillow in Virgil’s lap, and his legs were up in Roman’s lap. And judging by Patton’s smile, pictures had been taken. 

“We’re finishing up now,” Patton whispered. “And setting up to sleep out here. Do you want to stay in here or go to your own room?”

Logan yawned. “It will be far better for my posture to go to my own room… but if you were to turn on a sound machine… I would not be opposed to remaining here.”

Soon, something between white noise and rain lulled him back to sleep. 

  * •^*^••



They all found a marked improvement, both in Logan’s mood and even in Thomas’s clarity of mind, as they continued experimenting with touch. 

It was discovered that Roman, while not starved, was also touch-hungry, and was practically a giant dog in that he would accept any and all kinds of petting. 

And as Logan regulated, he found he was even more ready to give touch than to receive it. Roman flopping onto him after ‘terrible and glorious battles’ became a regular occurrence, often ending with Roman falling asleep, Logan gently scritching at his scalp. 

Walks with Patton became something they both greatly enjoyed and looked forward to. Sometimes they could only link pinkies, sometimes holding hands, sometimes even walking arm in arm. 

And Virgil was always ready to do something of his own near Logan, a limb draped over him or pressed up against him. 

Logan found himself repeatedly thinking back to that one afternoon in the memory library, incredibly grateful that Virgil had asked, and that he had said yes. He could see so much in his life that was better now. 

And he was really, truly happy. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
